


A Drowned Ghost

by psychomath



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: M/M, Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomath/pseuds/psychomath
Summary: Tommy went to a haunted house for the first time.





	A Drowned Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a scene from Amelie  
> Warning: English is not my first language, and I'm extremely bad at English writing. Not Betaed. I've tried.  
> Some sort of reincarnation.  
> Containing a little horror elements？

The old man behind the ice cream cart shakes his head, "Find some other things to do, lad."  
"Things other than eating ice creams?" Tommy raises an eyebrow. A cheerful song is played by the merry-go-round in a distance, he can hardly pick up the tune from so much noise around.  
"Exactly, four ice creams for a day is going to cause you a stomachache for sure." Tommy knows it as well, his skin is hot for being under a summer sun for too long, though he shivers from time to time because of the coldness inside, just like being grilled on a steaming gridiron as an ice cube, which is really not some pleasent experience.  
He doesn't think that girl will show up anyway.  
"Any suggestions?"

"20 francs." The ticket lady looks like a tree trying to overgrow the booth, occupying the narrow space defined by glass tightly, "One at a time." She blows the bubble gum between her lips and finally is freed from the fate of forced to talk.  
Tommy's never been in a haunted house before. Paying for getting spooked sounds not very intriguing for him, thank you. But Mr. Dawson——the owner of the cart——told him that the air conditioner here might be the only one still fully functioning in this amusement park, despite the truth that this site probably is the most deserted in the whole park. His ride is a little trolley painted in green with a skeleton of same colour on the back, both the trolley and the skeleton are mottled and covered with a hint of dust. And Mr. Dawson was right, the cool air blows in his face gives him goosebumps all over the bare arms. To his surprise, despite the primitive looking of his ride's decoration, the setting inside is actually quite stunning compared to his expectation。  
His trolley takes him into the foggy darkness like a boat slides into a dreadful sea, with the disturbingly clear noise of the wheels rolling through its track. There is a dense mist in the air, floating around like dancing ghosts, making it even harder for him to see through the tunnel he's in. Tommy wonders what they will do to scare him, and when they will do it. His heartbeat's already fastened by the mere thought, it's getting colder and colder as he goes deeper and deeper. There are shadows creeping around every corner, but disappear by the time he turns to stare at it.  
It's when he looks up at some cobwebs hanging down from the ceiling that the skeleton pops out of no where all of a sudden. Hanging upside down from above, it glares viciously at Tommy with its bloodshot eyes out of its sockets. Not seeing the wicked laughter coming, he gives a short shriek, keeping his chest patted even after a long while. Breaking into a cold sweat isn't doing him any help, Tommy shudders all over, when all the lights go out.  
They sound very close, malicious laughters, wolf cries and screamings. knowing that these are merely recordings, however his brain automatically fills the blank of sight with details, bodies getting torn apart by tusks, steaming blood coming out of mutilated limbs in the snow. Then the sound of waves, a huge storm threatening to destroy everything it passes by, water clashing with the reef. A trawler slowly sinking beneath the surface, torpedo, suffocation ...  
"Woo ... ..." a voice whispers right in his ear, "Wooo ... ..." a cold finger touches his neck softly. By the blue light, which makes them feel like being under the gloomy sea, he sees the drowned man for the first time. That ghost is standing on the edge of his trolley, it seems like half a century has past before he climbed out of the long-forgotten tomb in the bottom of the ocean where he got the seaweeds in his curly dark hair and shells on his face.  
"Hum ..." He makes that strange sound agian, cold cheek sticking close to Tommy's, breathing next to his ear. The plastic bones of his fake hand brushing through the junction point of Tommy's jaw and neck.The drowned guy may not be very good at his job and is the least frightening things Tommy's ever encountered so far in the entire haunted house, but he weeps somehow, tears running down his cheeks, wetting the bone.  
The man clearly hesitates, "Woo ...?" He tried to focus on his work, but only got more tears following, dripping down like a river. Finally, giving up, he wipes Tommy's wet cheeks with his real fingers instead, wide eyes full of concern and care.  
Tommy's never cried like this in his entire life, and it is so surreal that he's comforted by someone who is supposed to scare him in the first place. It's not the fear that brings him to tears, but the tide of emotion he had never felt or understood, now carrying him away, it started from the very moment he met the ghost's eyes.  
He has green eyes, Tommy realizes it by the light pouring through the exit that illuminates the man's face. Losing the track of time, as two total strangers, they stare at each other like searching the face of a long-lost friend.  
Tommy ran away as soon as he hit the destination but didn't expect that he follow him as well. The staff caught Tommy under the shadow of a Buckeye tree, "Are you okay, sir?" He asks in French, the make-up looks pretty clumsy in the sunlight, but Tommy sobs.  
"You're still alive," he says in English without knowing the meaning of his own words, the warmth of the sun subsides his goosebumps, but he still shivers from time to time.  
"Yes," the other answers cautiously, kind and uncertain. "I'm still alive, look!" He rips the makeup off his face, where the skin is immediately reddened by his brutality, but the young man does not seem to care much about it. "My name is Philippe, what is your name, sir?"  
He looks astonishingly beautiful in the dazzling sunlight with a bright smile on his face, making Tommy wants to at least try to smile back.  
"Tommy."It still feels like another person talking through his mouth. The longing and fulfillness in his chest tell him that this is a long-delayed self-introduction.  
If there is a list to rank his awkward situations in life, this will win the top prize easily. His eyelids are too swollen to open wide, cool tears drenching his collar, and hiccups come the next. But Philippe just smiles, "OK, Tommy, let's get some ice for your eyes." No longer using honorifics like they've known each other for a long time. Until then Tommy gradually regains self-control, but the hiccups just wouldn't stop.  
"Don't you have to ..." a pause, "work?"  
"Oh ... oh!" Philippe notices that he is still wearing his "workwear" at last, "I guess Gibson is a little too much ..." He pulled on the tattered uniform, "And we don't have much customers honestly, nobody will find out. "  
"It's too hot for someone just came out of the haunted house. Just an ice cream for both of us and I'll go back."  
They head towards Mr. Dawson's cart, and there is a funny feeling in his stomach, which Tommy can't tell if it is a sign of a coming stomachache or not.

END


End file.
